Student, Depressed.


The following is something I wrote a year ago about what it felt like to be depressed and completely lost. Currently, I’m working on recovery, and I thought I’d post this as a reminder to myself what it was like in my darker times. This might be triggering to a few, so if you’re easily triggered please exercise discretion while reading this 🙂  


Right now, I’m so done. I just feel pathetic, and lazy, and ready to give up. I want to cry, but I can’t, and this horrible and inexplicable misery seems to be attacking me in waves. Nobody has ever understood it at all. Right now, my poker face doesn’t seem to reveal the chaos going on inside my brain. I’m weak, I’m wounded, I’m desperately lost. Today I’ve only been able to have about 30 minutes of stolen, forbidden happiness, which didn’t even last a few seconds more. Just half an hour talking to him for a while, where the Depression seemed to recede in its attacks. But these days, any smile that isn’t fake seems like a sin, as though the whole world is working against my happiness. I’m not even allowed to be meeting up with him, but we love each other and he makes me briefly happy. I’m not allowed happiness anymore, anyway. The depression just seems to have eaten me whole. Now I’m here, almost in tears, drowning and ready to lose the fight. Exams coming soon, everyone hates me, my work is overdue, and I already know I will disappoint everyone.

Oh, how I try to be as ridiculously positive as I can, with my fake smiles and my forced laughs and my terrible jokes. Who am I kidding? Seriously, who? I’m just pathetic these days, I can’t even take the slightest critique. Everything I say seems to come out wrong, I might as well just not talk at all. I might as well just not wake up at all, what even is the point if everyone hates me? Not that I blame them, because I hate me too. I always feel stupid, unwanted, and alone. Oh, so miserably alone. It’s awful. It takes the air out of my lungs, choking me. It’s a slow painful death that is numb but scalding all at once. I’m raw and exposed and I’m too wounded to cry, scream for help. I can’t talk, I don’t feel like telling anyone I feel like I’m walking on a broken tightrope. I don’t want to talk to any friends, or that laughing boy who claims he loves me, or my parents or anyone. Nobody gets it, at all. I’m not worth their time, I’ve never felt like I was. I bet they all hate me behind my back. I’m just a fool, running around in circles and tripping over herself. Worthless, numb, alone. I’ve already committed emotional suicide. I’m just so tired of having to wake up every single day and exist, wake up everyday and be myself. Actually, scratch that, because I can’t even be myself, not without fucking something up big time. I’m tired of having to endure every single day with a nonchalant mask on my face when all I want to do is curl up and cry, when all I want to do is explode into the emptiness. I keep quiet a lot more, each day now is just a silent blur for me. I sit back and don’t say anything, because everything I say comes out wrong, everything I say will make people hate me. In fact, I haven’t been speaking much these days at all, because I’ve got nothing useful to say, my voice wouldn’t be heard anyway. What have I turned into? am I a monster? Is that why I feel like everyone hates me? Whatever I am, I know I’ve changed. Something’s changed, for the worst. I’m tired, I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. Every week is pure hell, every day is torture. Nobody would ever validate me over my depression. Nobody would ever acknowledge it, I bet they’d think I’m faking it, do they really perceive me as weak enough to fake this horrible illness?  

Heck, throughout my whole existence I’ve gotten used to feeling like lesser than. Bisexual in a heteronormative society, I’m placing a target on my head. The constant and casual homophobia I receive everyday makes me wonder what I did to deserve this. Why do I need to be this way, where nobody believes in my identity? where I’m crazy? I still remember the acute, burning shame I felt in class when they were making self harm jokes. I remember the tears threatening to spill out as I anxiously tugged down my sleeves and stood silent in a corner. I remember when someone spotted my scars and grabbed my wrist and made a spectacle out of them. I don’t forget, and it’s in these moments that all the memories come flooding back and leave my feeling more and more like a directionless, pointless wanderer who is hopelessly lost. It’s not worth trying to be happy anymore. Everybody hates me, at least that’s how I feel. And honestly, I hate me. I keep trying to stay positive. Keep my chin up and work for myself. think for myself. Smile for myself. Lately though, everything has been wrong, wrong, wrong.  I feel like such a disappointment, I’m supposed to be working but I can’t, I’ve just been trying to be strong but I’m not, I’m really not strong at all, not strong the way I wish I could be, and I’m ashamed of that. Maybe if I wasn’t such a disappointment, maybe if I was more perfect, this wouldn’t be happening. This is a Student, Depressed. And she’s trying not to let her own mind strangle her.


Sidenote- Things have gotten a lot better since the last time I wrote this, thankfully 🙂 I’m still working on recovery, but now I can see things a lot more clearly. Surprisingly a lot has changed in one year, and hopefully more will keep changing for the better. Till next time, thank you for reading 🙂


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